


Yes, And?

by therudestflower



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Max is a thirteen year old girl and all her behavior makes sense my god, More like an aggressive reaction to a lack of character understanding, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 00:54:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19878916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therudestflower/pseuds/therudestflower
Summary: Her whole life people begged Max to calm down, act more ladylike, react in proportion to her circumstances.In her opinion, her behavior was exactly was her circumstances called for.





	Yes, And?

I.

There was no good reason for teachers to do that sociopathic thing. 

That thing where everything is going on as normal, and Max could pretend to write notes when she was really writing 3-D letters in her notebook. Sometimes she just wrote random letters. It was easier to focus on than whatever was happening in class.

But she paid enough attention to hear when Mrs. Hilardis said, “Okay, make groups of three with the people around you and make a list of adjectives to describe Ponyboy Curtis’ character.”

This teacher didn’t let them choose where they sat and it was impossible not to notice that she’d flung the party members as far apart from each other as possible. Max was put in the far back thank  _ god  _ but that meant that she was being stared at by Quinn Charles and Jenny Quinn. Mrs. Hilardis let  _ them  _ sit together even though they were best friends for the incredibly stupid reason of having the same word in their names. 

They stared at Max. Max stared back. Jenny Quinn heaved a huge sigh like this was a  _ burden  _ and said, “Okay, so like? Ponyboy is  _ so cute _ .” 

“That’s not an adjective that describes his character,” Max said immediately. 

“Um,” Quinn Charles says, “it totally is?” 

“It’s not an adjective about his character, it’s an adjective about his appearance. Which, hey,  _ by the way,  _ is not evident because we’re talking about the book.” 

Jenny Quinn rolled her eyes, “Is  _ bitch  _ an accurate adjective about your character, or do you have a problem with that?” 

Max smiled wide, “No, that’s correct. Good job.” 

  
  
  
II.  
  


  
  
  


The most disgusting thing about Indiana was the rain. 

It was fucking freezing and if she wanted to avoid getting soaked she’d have to carry around her dumb yellow raincoat every fucking day because there was never any warning. The sky just opened up and destroyed her day. 

She and Lucas had holed up in the grocery store for an hour when Max decided to avoid a problem she would have to call around and find Billy so he could drive her home. The plan was to go to the Sinclair’s after the arcade but that plan had come and gone with the rain and now she needed to get home. 

“Give me your change,” she demanded of Lucas. 

Lucas looked away from the display of candy cigarettes and furrowed his brow. “What?” he asked. 

“I need to use the payphone by the door, give me some change,” Max said slowly for clarity. 

Lucas shook his head, “I only have twenty six cents and I want a Mars Bar.” 

Max blinked. “You what?” 

“I want--” 

“I’m your  _ girlfriend. _ ”

“Okay….”

“You’re supposed to take care of me.” 

“Wait, I thought I’m supposed to respect your aut-on-no-my. Like, your independent decision to start the day with twelve dollars and not save anything for a pay phone?” 

Max wasn’t sure what it was like to have a stroke but she thought she might be having one. When you have a stroke, is there a ringing in your ears and blackening and the edge of your vision and an overwhelming desire to kill your idiot boyfriend?

She was absolutely having a stroke. 

In the absence of medical intervention, the best treatment was to grab your idiot ex-boyfriend’s wrist until he dropped his stupid change into your hand and tell him, “I’m autonomously done with your shit,” then walk the fuck out into the disgusting rain.

III.

It’s not that Max completely didn’t  _ like  _ other girls. She had friends who were girls back in California, where people were normal and didn’t wear lace collars and shit. And it’s not that she wanted to be a boy, or anything. Girls were amazing. 

But sometimes she wished she was a boy. 

Mostly only when Mr. Wheeler or Mrs. Sinclair said, “Max, it’s about time you headed home?” when it got late, while the guys peeled off their socks and settled in for another sleepover. They got to stay at whoevers’ house had the snacks they wanted, while Max got bundled into a car and driven down Old Cherry Lane before she turned into a pumpkin. 

One night--a lot of nights actually--but one specific night she knew without getting close to the house that she couldn’t go inside. Mrs. Sinclair waited until she was inside the house before pulling away, but thankfully tonight it was Mr. Wheeler. He barely stopped the car long enough for her to get out before pulling away. 

There wasn’t yelling she could hear from outside, but that sometimes was worse. All the lights were on and the TV was off. It wasn’t good.

It was cold as shit. 

Sometimes all it took was a reminder that there was life outside their house to diffuse things. The phone would ring and Billy would stop yelling, or their neighbor's dog would start barking and Neil’s Terminator-like focus would break. 

Mr. Wheeler’s car was newer and quieter and she couldn’t risk that it was enough of a distraction. Her best bet was that her mom heard and knew she was outside and would come to get her when she could. 

So she skateboarded up and down the street. She didn’t live that far from the Byer’s, really, but Will wasn’t there and sometimes the way Ms. Byers looked at her gave her the creeps. And she didn’t know that it was bad enough that she needed to go somewhere else. 

It was fucking dark, which was why when she heard Lucas voice on the radio in her backpack she wiped out. Her elbow scraped on the street and she cursed long and loud. 

She ripped her radio out of her backpack, “What do you want, asswad?”

There was a long pause, “Max?” Lucas asked. 

“ _ What? _ ”

“Oh. Sorry. We were trying to get Steve. Talk tomorrow, okay? Over and out.” 

Then he was gone. Max wanted to slam her radio on the ground but there was no buying a new one. Probably they were going to convince Steve to pick them up and go to Dairy Queen and then they would tell her all about it, just like last time, and say “You should have been there!” like she ever had  _ any fucking choice.  _

Like she ever had any choice about anything. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Today I found out that the internet was hating on Max for being angry, melodramatic, man-hating, not seeming connected to the rest of the party, and being rude. 
> 
> And I was kind of like....yes? And where is the issue?


End file.
